


Take It By The Horns

by DValkyrie



Series: Thunder Rumbles when Adaar's Around [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Battling Alcohol and Drug Addictions, Drugs, F/F, warning: drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DValkyrie/pseuds/DValkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TJ is a party animal. Alcohol, drugs, dancing, you name it, she loves it. Being The Inquisitor is something that she’s still getting used to, and TJ is having an internal war with herself to deal with these substances. With the help of her inner circle, especially her lover, TJ struggles to beat the addiction- or will it overtake her completely?<br/>WARNING: ALCOHOL AND DRUG USE. RECOVERING ADDICT. DON'T EVEN OPEN THIS IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE ABOUT ALCOHOL AND DRUG USE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on dealing with addiction to alcohol and harmful substances. THIS WORK HAS ALCOHOL AND DRUG USE. I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH. IT ALSO A WORK OF PURE FICTION. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE ABOUT ALCOHOL AND DRUG USE. 
> 
> I'm fairly certain the herbs mentioned in this work are NOT actual drugs in the game. They're just rare herbs to find.

Another day of scouting the Emerald Graves and keeping Thedas safe had just finished. The Inquisitor strolled from the stables, where she had left her mount, to the tavern. There was a slight spring in her step as the sun descended behind the mountains. A couple of the gardeners and cleaners turned their heads as the great Tamsin-Jeanne Adaar, The Inquisitor, continued to walk towards her destination.  
  
The Inquisition had gotten over the fact that TJ was a Qunari. They had gotten used to her charming demeanour, and completely supported her relationship with Lady Montilyet. However, they were aware of her…enthusiasm at the tavern. TJ was a party girl. She could drink and dance until the next age, and she was also willing to try _any_ substance that was passed towards her. When she was out on business, she would only drink, and _try_ to smuggle some crystal grace when the business was finished. They knew of her mercenary group dealing in supplies for herbs, and her connections with other Tal Vashoth who would practically thrive off any grass they could get their large hands on. It was at the point in time now that the Inquisitor was a festive blonde who enjoyed alcohol and anything that could up her nose or inhaled. The scouts and gardeners were also aware of what happened to TJ once she _left_ the Herald’s Rest…

Four hours later, TJ downed her umpteenth drink and shook her head to keep It in her stomach. Many other tavernfolk cheered her on as she let out a bark of laughter.  
“I don’t know how you do it, TJ,” Dorian smiled, twirling a glass of wine next to TJ at the bar. The blonde shook her head and grinned lopsidedly at her fellow mage.  
“Ah, it takes time. And if you couldn’t hold your liquor in the Marches, you’d be dead,” her voice was slurring slightly, and Cabot grumbled as he took the pint away.  
“Inquisitor, you’re really pushing it tonight,” he grunted as TJ looked at him with her large, emerald eyes that were currently hazy.  
“Me? The great Inquisitor? Saviour of Thedas?” TJ batted her eyelashes and puckered her lips as Dorian chuckled. The bartender grunted again, then turned to serve Blackwall.  
  
“Grumpy git,” TJ muttered, dropping the sweet mockery the second Cabot was out of earshot. Dorian smirked and sipped his wine. TJ was charming, no doubt, but the woman’s sharp tongue could be deadly when need be.  
The blonde Qunari turned to the mage, a glint in her eye as she tapped the pocket of her trousers.  
“I’m stepping outside for some herbs. Would you like some Crystal Grace?” she asked Dorian. The mage bit his lip, he knew of TJ’s love for the herb, but he always felt uncomfortable by its presence. He had inhaled some of it a few years ago, and never cared for it. TJ, however, stated that it was good for clearing the mind and reliving stress. Dorian had certainly felt less stressed when he inhaled it, that’s for sure, but it the other herbs TJ enjoyed that caused even more problems…  
  
Dorian accompanied TJ, anyway, just to keep an eye on her under the war council’s orders. They knew of TJ’s habits, but they could not stop the mage from gathering the herbs. Dorian twiddled his thumbs as TJ ripped a page from a small parchment role she had taken from Josephine’s office, and sprinkled the crystal grace inside it.  
“The Emerald Graves is a good looking place, don’t you think?” TJ smiled as she clicked her finger to get a flame. Dorian nodded in agreement as the girl held the parchment between her lips and breathed in the herbs. “It’s a lovely place, I agree. Nice to get some of that Orlesian air in the lungs from time to time,” Dorian started, then his eyes lingered on the burning parchment. He raised an eyebrow.  
“Does Lady Montilyet really approve of this, Inquisitor?”  
TJ opened her eyes, and Dorian noticed the pupils had dilated. She tilted her head, blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she have a relaxed smile. The mage breathed out the smoke before answering. “Josephine doesn’t have a problem, as long as it’s not inside. The smell only gives her a few qualms,” TJ answered as Dorian listened. This was true. TJ had first been discovered inhaling Crystal Grace at the cross-roads camp in The Hinterlands. Cassandra was instantly repulsed, but TJ did state that she would always inhale the substance in her downtime or away from the camp.  
“Is our dearest Josephine aware of the witherstalk and ghoul’s beard?” Dorian asked calmly as TJ inhaled the parchment sharply. Her brow furrowed and her eyes scrunched up. The mage took the herbs out of her mouth and turned to snap at Dorian. “It’s none of your business. It’s for my leisure, which I so rarely get these days!”  
“Alright then,” Dorian placed his hands up slightly, indicating that he would stop. TJ sighed and finished off the parchment with one final intake. She burnt the end of the parchment to a crisp as she exhaled the fumes through her nose. With a slight cough, TJ ran a hand through her hair and scratched at her horns.  
“Are you finished? It’s getting a bit chilly,” Dorian noted the crisp evening air and the full moon hanging above them. TJ shot another glare at him; her eyes were slightly hazy and drooping as she shook her head. “I’m not, but you’re more than welcome to go back inside.”  
Dorian raised an eyebrow as TJ fumbled for something in her pocket. She withdrew a leaner, crisper herb, and Dorian visually tensed up. It was Witherstalk.  
“Tamsin-Jeanne…” Dorian started, easily, and TJ reared her head.  
“Problem, Dorian?”  
“Do you think we could perhaps go back inside? I’m sure there’s a bottle of wine we could enjoy, or maybe Sera has a cider fr-”  
Dorian didn’t finish his alternative suggestions to the herb, because TJ shoved right pass him and headed up the stairs to Skyhold’s higher levels.  
“One line, in _peace,_ then I’ll join you,” TJ snapped from the stairwell, her voice echoing off the stone as she continued ascending. Dorian let out a groan, and turned on his heel. He would need backup for what was about to happen.

 

Josephine knew many sides of her lover, TJ. She knew of the heroic lightning mage, the charismatic and charming party girl, the passionate and sensual lover, the level headed Inquisitor…But she did _not_ know _this_ side of the blonde Qunari.  
TJ sat on top of the rampart, cross-legged with a piece of parchment laid out in front of her. She was currently rolling up another sheet, eyeing the chopped up herbs in front of her in a single, neat line. TJ was blinking more than usual from the Crystal Grace, but her pupil remained dilated.  
_“Fuck Dorian,”_ she thought to herself as she rolled the parchment tightly with both hands, that were twitching slightly. It needed to fit up her nose. _“I never get down time anymore._ Never. _He’s not my father, he can go stuff that fire staff right up his –”_ TJ didn’t finished her thought, because her makeshift nozzle was ready for use. Bending over the parchment, TJ placed one end of the nozzle up to her nose, and the other at the start of the Witherstalk line. With one quick, easy sniff, she ran the nozzle along the line, and flicked it up at the end once the herbs were inside her nasal cavity. It felt _so_ good. The rush of Witherstalk inside her as TJ let out a groan of pleasure, then gritted her teeth to sniffle down any access herbs. It gave just an extra _spark,_ like gulping down water after a long ride across the Oasis. TJ closed her eyes as she let the herbs flow into her system.  
“Adaar,” A deep, familiar voice came from behind her, making TJ’s eye snap open. The Iron Bull was standing there. Arms folded and eye narrowed. TJ smiled turned her head to face him, but her left eye was twitching slightly. “ _Shanedan,_ Bull. It’s a nice evening, no?”  
“It’d be nicer without Crystal grace stinking up the yard…” Bull commented in a low tone as he unfolded his arms. He had dealt with herb inhalers before, and knew about TJ’s crystal grace addiction,  
“Didn’t know you liked Witherstalk, too.” This was the first time he had seen her with the herb, and saw that it’s effect was taking a toll already. TJ’s eye continued to twitch, and she was fiddling with her nails.  
“One line every now and then doesn’t hurt,” She responded in an unusual tone, a mixture of bitterness and drowsiness. It made sense, Crystal grace before Witherstalk. Bull noticed how close The Inquisitor was to the edge of the rampart, and he needed to her away from there as soon as possible, or she might cause even _more_ damage to herself.  
“Adaar, it’s cold out here. Why don’t we go back down to the Tavern?” Bull was careful with his words, knowing the effects of Witherstalk. TJ turned around completely, yet fumbled her left hand around for the parchment and grasped her pocket to make sure that the remaining herbs were still there. Bull took note of the pocket as TJ scratched the back of her head. “I’ll be down in a minute, just let me get some air.”  
“I think you’ve had plenty of air, Missy,” Bull took a cautious step forward as he darkened in tone of voice. TJ’s mind racked with the possibilities of what Bull was trying to do. _“He wants to kill you.”_ She took a step back, now teetering against the sculpted stone- the only thing keeping her away from falling to her death. Bull kept his eye on her as he spoke again, his hands by his side. “Adaar, get away from the wall, or you’ll become a Qunari puddle.”  
_“He’s trying to hurt you. Don’t let him.”_

TJ put one hand behind her back and clenched it. She hadn’t lost all control if she could conjure up some lightning.  
“Adaar, get aware from there!”  
He stepped forward.  
_“He wants to kill you!”_  
The voice in TJ’s head told her that this was enough. She threw her hand out and blasted some bolts at Bull, who moved out of the way, but was too late and his left arm got hit at the edge. TJ screamed something at him and bolted off along the ramparts. Bull swore loudly and went after her, Bull’s Edge in his hand.  
“Adaar! Get back here!” He yelled, and Cullen stuck his head out of the door to his office. “Bull, what in The Maker’s name is-”  
“Adaar’s on Witherstalk!” The Qunari snapped back as TJ kept running. _“Bull will kill you and take away your herbs. Keep running!!”_  
“Inquisitor!!” Cullen yelled as he joined Bull in the chase.  
  
TJ’s head was throbbing, her mouth gaping open for air and her throat and nose dry. These men were trying to kill her. They wanted her dead, to take the herbs away from her. Like hell she was going to let that happen. TJ continued to run away as fast as her blistered feet would go. She kept one hand on her pocket of herbs as she headed around the ramparts. The Qunari knew eventually she would run out of a road. What if she jumped? What if she was amble to cast a barrier around her to protect her fall? Then maybe she could run into the Fereldan Mountains, away from the men who wanted to make her life horrible- to replicate that nightmare of the fade. TJ’s mind was a blur as she sped across the top rampart, pushing people out of her way, fear clouding her vision ant her mind.  
_“They hate you. They want you dead.”_

The qunari’s mind flashed back to Calpernia, standing with Corypheus. Then there was an image of her mercenary group, sniffling up the Witherstalk. They turned to face her, growling and wishing her to perish. Another flash back to the streets of the Free Marches – Josephine was standing there, kicking TJ as a child, spitting on her...Wanting her to die…  
TJ let out a howl of anguish as she rounded another corner. The stone wall approached her. TJ bent her knees, ready to jump off, through, into, above the wall, just some way to get around it-  
But a large, glowing sword in the chest hit her.

The Inquisitor was whacked onto the ground, her horns smacking against the cold stone surface. She was knocked out cold by Vivienne’s spirit blade.  
“Thanks, ma’am,” Bull panted as he caught up to the herb induced Qunari and Orlesian mage. Vivienne sighed and vanquished her blade, staring down at The Inquisitor.  
“I think Josephine should be notified about this.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Witherstalk, of all the herbs to get your hands on.”  
“Never mind that, how the fade are going to explain this to the Inquisition?”  
“Not everyone knows about the incident, Cullen. We can keep it quiet.”  
“It’s not that, Sister Nightingale, it’s the – I can’t believe I’m saying this- but The Inquisition’s image! How is it going to look if the Inquisitor is a herb addict?!”  
“The same way that the Inquisition’s commander is a former Lyrium addict!” Leliana snapped back at Cullen, slapping the table with one hand, the other on her hip. 

The Commander and Spymaster were in the war room the morning after TJ’s incident, trying to figure out what to do. The Inquisitor was currently in the prison cells, stripped of all herbs by Vivienne and Dorian. News of the previous night had spread throughout Skyhold, and Leliana was doing her best not to let it get out of the gates. Cullen turned white and fumbled with his hand that was resting on the pommel of his sword. He gulped and cleared his throat, thinking of a response.  
“A-At least I have stopped taking Lyrium…But this has nothing to do with what has just happened!”  
Leliana scoffed and stepped away from the table, flexing her fingers. She turned to look at the other member of the council- The Ambassaor. 

Josephine had been leaning against the wall of the room with her hands behind her back and head down. Her hazel optics were glassy and fixated on the floor. She had not said anything all morning, nor had she seen TJ since The Qunari had been back from her trip to The Emerald Graves.  
“Josie…” Leliana’s face softened as she saw her friend. Cullen bit his lip and turned to look out the window. Both of them could imagine what Josephine was feeling at this point in time. Leliana walked over to Josephine and placed an arm around your shoulder. “I know this is tough, but we need to have some sort of scheme to figure out how to approach this…”  
Josephine simply dipped her head into a nod. An awkward nod that matched her fists clenching. “Perhaps Cullen can speak to Inquisitor Adaar about overcoming the desire for these herbs?”  
Leliana’s eyebrows flew up as Cullen choked on his own breath. “M-Me?!”  
“Indeed. You did overcome your addiction, did you not?” Josephine looked at the blonde man with a stern face. Cullen gulped down air as he started to sweat.  
“Y-Yes, I did, but I had help! Help from Cassandra, and Solas and-”  
“TJ. TJ also helped you, so why don’t you return the favour and help her?” Josephine continued. Cullen was speechless: TJ did help him overcome lyrium, but in hindsight, it was strange that she would help and consumed herbs. Cullen felt sick at the thought, but controlled his stomach as he looked at the floor.  
“From my understanding, I am not a qualified healer. What good can I do?”  
“You can fill in the time as I try to find a qualified healer. I doubt any of The Inquisition’s staff have experience in herb addictions,” Leliana leaned against the wall as Josephine bit her lip.  
“What if we asked Cole to go with Cullen and help him understand TJ by reading her mind?”  
Cullen physically wretched as Leliana raised an eyebrow at Josephine’s suggestion.  
“Are you quite mad, Josephine?!” Cullen spluttered as Leliana scowled. 

Josephine let out a long sigh and locked eyes with the commander.  
“Commander, none of us are qualified healers or experts on how to deal with herb addicts. None of us can understand TJ’s thoughts- not even me, and we have been through the most catastrophic courtship anyone has ever seen. Now, until we find someone who can deal with TJ in a professional manner, you and Cole are our only options. Perhaps we can send The Iron Bull with you to make sure nothing goes wrong…” Josephine’s voice cracked as she clenched her fists.  
“TJ has never, ever, talked about witherstalk…and said she could inhale Crystal grace at a responsible pace…She never talked to me about it…In the year of being with her…” Josephine’s breath hitched as she dabbed her eyes with her white handkerchief, then looked up at Cullen.  
“If you have a better suggestion, I am listening.” 

Cullen was speechless. There as no way he could respond to that. Leliana, although she seldom showed emotions, looked at Josephine with a sorrowful expression. The blonde commander stared out the window, and gritted his teeth.  
“Fine. I will talk to her, and Cole can be there too. But-” He raised a finger before continuing. “I would like to talk to her in my office, and Bull should stay outside incase something goes wrong. Dorian should be informed about this, and perhaps you, Josephine, could come t-”  
“I cannot.”  
Cullen’s eyebrows flew up in astonishment as Josephine sighed. “It would be best that I have as minimal interaction with TJ as possible, until we find a professional.”  
“So it’s settled,” Leliana let a smile cross her face as she leaned against the table, staring at the map. “We could try Orlais first. They have thousands of healers, and someone has to specialise in herbs…”  
Josephine tuned out as she held back tears. She couldn’t believe Tamsin-Jeanne. Why would she hide this? The truth was Josephine was too scared to face her lover after what had happened...


	3. Chapter 3

Cullen walked briskly to his office that afternoon, adjusting the fur on his armour. It was chilly, especially being on the higher level of the ramparts. As he went over what to say in his head, a shaky voice broke the cool air.  
“Ironic, that she has been active with herbs this whole time. Meant to be Thedas’s saviour, yet she can’t control herself…”  
Cullen let out a quiet moan as he saw Cole sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of the office door. He was scratching at the stone.  
“Nice to see you too, Cole,” Cullen sighed as he opened the door and gestured for Cole to come inside.  
  
The commander lit come candles and stoked the fire, making an attempt to take the chill off. He sat down in his chair, and then noticed that his chair was the only one. With a groan, Cullen got up and went outside to find a scout, and ordered them to fetch more chairs from the Herald’s Rest.  
“Cole, we should go over some things before TJ gets here,” Cullen addressed the young spirit, who was twiddling his thumbs.  
“You don’t want me to talk unless asked- interrupting annoys you. This is an opportunity to help Tamsin-Jeanne. Do not mess this up. Leave if she becomes angry, call The Iron Bull…”  
“Took the words right out of my mind,” Cullen groaned again as two scouts opened the door with chairs.

 

Cole positioned himself in the corner, rocking back and forth on his chair. Cullen braced himself as heavy footsteps approached from outside. The door opened, and there she stood.  
Tamsin-Jeanne Adaar. The Qunari mage, master of the storm. Apart from the fresh clothes, she looked a mess. Her hair was disheveled, and the bags under her eyes were darker than her makeup. Her eyes were drooping, yet had this manic look in them. Enchanted metal cuffs tied the mage’s hands.  
Cullen nodded to the seat in front of him, and TJ walked in, slowly. Cole gulped as TJ sat down in the chair, crossing her legs and looking directly at the blonde man.  
“Commander,” TJ greeted him, her voice was soft, but Cullen shuddered as his title was drawled out.    
“Inquisitor,” Cullen responded as the Qunari smiled lazily. She shifted to make herself more comfortable.  
“Let’s just get to the point,” Cullen started, shooting a quick glance towards Cole, indicating for him to get ready.  
“When did you obtain the witherstalk.”  
“The last trip I did to the Forbidden Oasis,” TJ answered, blinking slowly. Cullen looked at Cole again, and the young spirit spoke.  
“She speaks the truth. The scent was enticing, sand everywhere- keeps her motivated.”  
  
TJ turned to look at Cole, and smiled at him gently. She then turned back to the Commander and raised a perfect – yet ruffled – blonde eyebrow.  
“Don’t you believe me, Cullen? I’m normally pretty honest…brutally, if I do say so myself.”  
“Are you quite serious?! You have _never_ spoken about _this_!” Cullen snapped at the Qunari, slamming a fist onto the table. TJ didn’t flinch- she just blinked in thought.  
“This…one little mishap…”  
“A _mishap?_ Adaar, this is much more than a _mishap_ ,” The commander started, staring into the hazy abyss of TJ’s eyes.  
“Imagine if word got out of what happened last night, that The Inquisitor was a herb addict, who nearly killed herself by running into the wall under the influence of witherstalk. Everything we have worked for – everything _you_ have worked for- will be for nothing. The public image would be ruined.”  
“None of your business, the herbs are relaxing. Gets her through the toughest times, the darkest hours – You know nothing” Cole got in before TJ could even open her mouth to respond. Cullen’s face turned white once hearing the blonde mage’s thoughts.  
“I…don’t think you’re doing a very good job of trying to help me, Commander…I _think_ that’s what you’re trying to do, yeah?” TJ muttered, looking off at the bookshelf and focusing on a journal about fighting urges.  
Cullen’s eyes budged slightly, he was tempted to yell for Bull to pin TJ to the ground and yell at her. But, he restrained himself, like he did with lyrium. He wiped his brow with the back of his shaking hand, and then let it flop onto the table as he sighed.  
“…You’re correct, TJ,” he grimaced, and then looked up at the blonde. Her posture made him fume, as if she didn’t care. Where was the woman he had known before? The woman who had aided the templars against the envy demon. The woman who had exposed Florianne’s plot to assassinate the Empress. The woman who had helped him overcome lyrium…the woman with such charm and charisma that it was contagious…

  
“Cullen,” TJ shifted her leg and slid back against the chair, resting her tied hands on her knee. Her words pulled the man out of his thoughts.  
“Do you remember what it was like to take lyrium? How it made you feel…complete, in a sense?”  
“Yes…I do,” Cullen answered hesitantly, glaring at the desk so hard that his eye began to burn. TJ’s lip quirked up.  
“It’s like that with crystal grace. It just relaxes me. If you have noticed, I always go outside to inhale _one_ parchment roll a day. Just one…It does no one any harm. The witherstalk…” TJ bit her lip, thinking about the herb.  
“…It gives me life, just something to wake me up from a horrible day. Back in the mercenary group – yes, my group was the best around- but there are times where I feel…not worthy. witherstalk makes me feel complete, like a better mage…It’s always helped me through the toughest parts of my life.”  
“Then why did you pull that stunt last night with the witherstalk?” Cullen asked in a dark tone, and TJ glared at him, yet she kept her voice at a steady level.  
“Too much witherstalk can make one think thing that aren’t always true,” TJ responded.  
“No one likes you, they want you dead. You are of no worth. Try running, running far away, or death. Death might be best,” Cole muttered, rocking back and forth on his chair as Cullen let a scowl form.  
  
“How long have you been dealing with witherstalk for?” Cullen asked as he processed Cole’s translation. TJ hummed, recalling the herb.  
“A long time…” TJ scanned Cullen briefly before continuing.  
“Before the battle of Adamant, I had one line. Before the Winter Palace, I had half a line. Even before the battle with Corypheus, I had one line. It keeps me grounded, and gives me the adrenaline rush I need, but…”  
TJ paused, her face fell slightly.  
“It normally never gets that ridiculous. Plus, Dorian and myself _did_ have drinks at the tavern beforehand…that could have effected me more so…”  
  
“These thoughts on having no worth, and us wanting you dead…that was the herb’s influence, I presume?”  Cullen asked.  
  
TJ kicked herself off the chair with a snort of annoyance. Cullen immediately reached for his sword and Cole vanished to the upper level. Bull burst the door open with Bull’s Edge in his hand, ready to strike. TJ turned around, puffing air out of her nostrils, but then registered in her mind that Bull was armed, and all she could do was kick and scream. _Not_ the best way to fight a male Qunari or a former templar. The mage visibly relaxed, to show that she would do no harm. Both men were still on their guard as Cole reappeared in his chair, one blade out for protection.  
“We can talk about that another time,” TJ growled, turning her back on Cullen and storming off towards the door. Bull blocked the way, looking down at her with superstition radiating from his body.  
“Let me pass, bull. I want to be alone,” TJ stated, as if it were an order. Bull didn’t move, he continued to glare at the female Qunari, who was only a hand or so shorter than him. TJ scoffed, glaring right back at him.  
“I’m going to the garden, there’s no crystal grace _or_ witherstalk in my possession! Let me through!” She snapped, flaring her nostrils as Bull sniffed the air.  
“They stripped me last night. Nothing here, all gone – will need to do another expedition to the Forbidden Oasis for more,” Cole squeaked out as TJ turned to stare daggers at the young spirit. Bull let out a growl as he moved aside to let TJ pass. The blonde mage stormed out of the office, muttering insults underneath her breath. 

  
Cullen flopped back into his chair and kicked the side of his desk. What just happened? Adaar seemed fine with everything, up until the remark about the herb’s influence.  
“Strange stuff, those herbs, hey Cullen?” Bull broke the silence as Cole rocked back and forth on his chair. The commander nodded, and then buried his face in his hands, praying to the Maker that either Josephine or Leliana had found someone to deal with TJ’s herb addiction.  
  
And fast, because it was turning her into a monster.  
 


	4. Chapter 4

Many seemed to forget that Tamsin-Jeanne was only 24 years old. Yet in those short years of life, she had been to hell and back. Despite having a close relationship with her family, there was a struggle between her mother and father. It was her father, Owain that inhaled crystal grace from time to time. Once they had left the Qun, He had started to inhale the herbs to relax and forget all about his past life as a militant. When TJ was 13, two years before mastering her storm magic, TJ discovered a spare parchment roll with crystal grace inside. She had just learnt the basics of fire, and summoned a flame to light it.

  
At first, the taste was foul, like a burning candle mixed with elfroot. It hurt to inhale it, and TJ coughed and spluttered it out of her system. She didn’t understand why anyone would want to inhale that stuff.  
Her father caught her, and scolded her at once…

TJ started inhaling herbs before she started drinking. Alcohol never really had a massive effect on her, as her father had let her taste it when she was younger. TJ’s brother never drank or consumed herbs, he was the golden child of the family. It was TJ who rebelled and started to become interested in herbs, especially witherstalk…

 -

TJ sat in the garden, her head in her hands, thinking over the first time she had crystal grace. Thinking about it, she was craving a parchment roll at the moment. The mage ran a hand through her blonde hair, standing up with a huff of annoyance as she started to pace the garden. Not many people were there, only a few scouts and herbologists that maintained it. TJ mentally kicked herself that she didn’t bring any crystal grace or witherstalk to grow here from one of her expeditions. Her nose twitched, craving for the herbs to go into her system, to give her life…  
  
She needed a distraction.  
  
-  
  
Josephine was in her office, scrawling yet another note in hopes of finding someone who could deal with a herd addict. Her mind was working automatically as she rewrote the same letter to a different area of Thedas, just someone to help…  
  
The ambassador was aware of TJ’s crystal grace habits. She had found out about it after Haven, when she saw the blonde far away from their campsite puffing smoke out of her nose. When they were at the Winter Palace, TJ inhaled it after the party was done, far away from the guests that were making their way home. After their love making, a week ago, TJ excused herself and went to her balcony for a parchment roll.  
  
_“Does is bother you?” TJ had asked back at the snow camp, a look of guilt having crossed her face as she threw the roll in the snow and stamped her foot on it to kill the flame. Josephine was shocked, and the smell did bother her, so she nodded slowly. TJ felt a pang of guilt in her chest as she gulped._  
 _“I, uh, only inhale one roll a day…away from everyone,” she mumbled, and Josephine shrugged.  
“Only the smell bothers me.”_  
 _“In that case, I’ll move further away, and I won’t return until every scent of grace is gone,” TJ compromised, a plea in her eyes. Josephine let a small smile quirk onto her face._  
 _“That is acceptable.”_

There was a soft knock on the door, and Josephine gently called for the person to come in.  
The door opened, and in stepped TJ. Josephine looked up, and her heart sank. The qunari had her hands behind her back as she walked forward sheepishly.  
  
“I take it you heard about last night?” TJ asked in a low voice. Josephine nodded, placing her quill down and closing her mouth to clear her throat.  
“I did. Vivienne informed me…”  
  
TJ stopped when she was directly in front of Josephine, biting her lip as her emerald eyes try to lock with Josephine’s hazel optics. The Antivan glanced at the closed door behind her, then took a long, shaky breath.  
“How was your little meeting Cullen?”  
TJ scoffed and rolled her eyes, frustrated.   
“He tried to help, but that man is in _no_ position to scold me or try to help. Did people forget was kind of shit _he_ did with lyrium?”  
“Cullen is the only one in skyhold that knows what it is like to be addicted to something,” Josephine countered, and TJ opened her mouth to snap, but then remembered whom she was talking to. TJ withdrew her attitude and leaned against the desk, staring at her lover.   
“He knows nothing. _Nothing_ at all. And I’m not addicted to witherstalk, or crystal grace.” TJ’s voice was softer, and hummed in her diaphragm as Josephine stared at the parchment on her desk.  
  
Josephine pushed herself back from the table, still remaining in her chair, and placed her hands in her lap.  
“TJ, how many times do you inhale crystal grace a day?”  
“Once: away from everyone else, and I don’t return until the smell is gone,” TJ answered, repeating her promise to Josephine that was made a long time ago. Josephine closed her eyes as she asked another question. “How much ale do you consume a day?”  
“Two pints,” TJ answered. Josephine opened her eyes and locked her gaze with the mage.   
“How much did you consume _yesterday_?”  
TJ flinched at the question, trying to mentally count the amount, but then grimaced.  
“…Too much.”  
“That is what I thought,” Josephine responded curtly as she visibly tensed up.  
“With the witherstalk, did you consume much of it?”  
“One line,” TJ answered, feeling worse by the second. Josephine lost some colour in her face at the thought. TJ cast her mind back to the previous night, and _did_ see how Josephine would be astonished; the love of her life, the Inquisitor, on top of Skyhold sniffing up a deadly substance through her nose. Not to mention running away from her inner circle, her _friends,_ screaming and about to kill herself. TJ grimaced as her heart sank further, realising what she had done.  
  
“Is it normally one? Or is it more?” Josephine asked, and TJ dipped her head as tears burned in her eyes.  
“It’s normally more,” her voice trembled and hitched with her response.  
Josephine looked up, eyes wide at the shaky Qunari. There were silent tears streaming down her face as she her grip on the table tightened. Josephine sighed and started to wipe her own eyes, pushing back her chair to stand up and lean against TJ gently.    
“I do no care about how the Inquisition will look about this,” she tried to keep her voice steady, pushing a lock of blonde hair behind TJ’s pierced and pointed ear.  
“I care about you, and your safety. I do not want to lose you. Ever.”  
Josephine moved her hand to cup TJ’s cheek lightly, then let out a sigh as tears started to run down her own face.  
“I am trying to find someone who can help you, someone who can keep you safe.”  
“I…don’t need help…” TJ responded, looking at Josephine with smudged eye makeup.  
“I’m responsible, it has never been that bad…ever…”  
“Then let me find someone to make sure it never happens again,” Josephine pleaded, locking her eyes with TJ and gently placing a kiss on her cheek.  
“Please, TJ. It breaks my heart to see you like this!” Josephine’s buried her face into the blonde’s tunic, and sobbed.  
  
TJ looked down at her human lover, and her own heart started to break. Seeing Josephine like this was shattering.  
She thought it over, then leaned in and kissed Josephine on the top of her head, breathing in the fragrance and relaxing at once.  
“If you can find someone, then yes…I’ll try to get alcohol and herbs out of my life.”  
Josephine raised her head, and just sobbed, flinging her arms around TJ, who embraced her tightly.  
“I’m doing this for you. No one else, but you, _Kadan,_ ” The mage murmured as she ran a hand through Josephine’s hair. There was an uneasy feeling in Adaar’s stomach at the thought of living her life with less – or completely without – alcohol, crystal grace, and witherstalk.  
  
Little did she know that she would be fighting one of the toughest battles she had would ever fight.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days later, TJ was sitting outside of Skyhold’s gates, inhaling her single parchment roll of crystal grace for the day. The night before, as they were in bed, Josephine explained to her that she had found someone who was qualified to help her overcome this alcohol and herb addition.

  
_‘They are from the Free Marches, and know everything there is to know about this,_ ’ _Josephine explained softly, resting her hand against TJ’s chest as they lay in the Inquisitor’s grand bed.  
“I certainly hope so,” TJ mumbled, looking down at the mattress. Josephine’s eyes were filled with pain as the mage rolled over and closed her eyes._

TJ slowly drew a long breath of crystal grace, closing her eyes as the warmth filled her body. The cool winds of the mountains danced and whistled around her in their morning delight. TJ let her hair out of her ponytail and swished her head to let it fall into place around her shoulders and collarbone. The thick blonde waves swirled in the breeze as she inhaled more crystal grace. She enjoyed the thrill of witherstalk, and the buzz of alcohol…  
_“Just do it for Josephine,”_ TJ thought to herself, breathing out the smoke through her nose with a long sigh. The mage got to her feet and stared out at the snow-topped mountains, then threw the end of the roll into the ground and dug her heel into it. She then raised her right hand and lazily dispelled herself to get rid of the smell of crystal grace before heading back into Skyhold.

 - 

“So who is this acclaimed _professional healer_ that you’ve found for me?” TJ asked Josephine as the ambassador sat in her chair, writing more and more letters to various nobles and such. TJ was lying on the couch, playing with a ball of static and her right leg crossed over her left. Josephine answered without looking up,   
“They have helped many soldiers and nobles battle herb addiction for well over 20 years. They even helped out former templars overcome lyrium, if only we could have used them with Cullen,” Josephine remarked, signing the bottom of a letter with her flourished signature.   
TJ sighed and threw the static ball into her left hand, then began the game of catch with herself.   
“Do you really think this healer can help me?” TJ asked, eyes on the ceiling as her hands did all the work automatically. Josephine put down her quill and moved the letter to the side. The human woman shifted a fresh piece of parchment in front of her and readied her quill.   
“I believe she can guide you in the right direction.”  
“Do _you_ think _I_ really need this healer?” TJ stopped playing with the static ball and shifted her head so that she was looking at Josephine upside down from the couch. Josephine stopped what she was doing, frozen in time at TJ’s question. Josephine’s response was slow and cautious,   
“I…think you are a wonderful person, TJ. Yet…you could be so much better than this…”  
TJ observed Josephine as the Antivan wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. The guilt bubbled inside of her again, and rose, as if she had plunged into a river.

  
Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. Josephine sniffled as she called for the person to come in. TJ lazily looked up as the door opened.   
  
It was a female elf. Clearly Dalish from the markings on her face. Long auburn hair was held back by an Olresian sash, being used as a headscarf. She wore long, flowing robes of velvet red and green, and the pattering of footsteps indicated that she was barefoot. Looking at the woman, TJ raised an eyebrow. Who the hell was this woman?   
  
“Lady Montilyet?” the elf spoke in a rather sing-song voice. Josephine got up from her desk and walked over to the woman.   
“Yes, and I take it you are the healer, madamme Vasilif?”  
“Melava Vasilif, at your service,” the elf bowed with a smile and a nod. TJ looked at the elf and raised and eyebrow.   
_“You have_ got _to be joking,_ ” she thought as Josephine introduced herself, then gestured towards the Qunari.   
“May I present to you Inquisitor Adaar.”  
Melava turned to peer at TJ, who hadn’t bothered to get up and introduce herself. She remained on Josephine’s couch, not even bothering to look at Melava.   
This was a bad decision…  
“Adaar? Would you please greet our guest?” Josephine asked, there was a bite of irritation in her voice at TJ’s lack of manners. With a groan, TJ flipped herself around and got to her feet. Placing one hand in the pocket of her trousers, TJ looked glared down at the Dalish elf. The Qunari towered over her, and it was obvious she was trying her best to look as menacing as possible. A short sleeved white tunic, blue trousers, a black harness that kept her custom lightning staff strapped to her back, the onyx horns, tousled blonde hair and dark makeup; she looked like a thug, rather than the storm master who defeated Corypheus.   
  
TJ grunted at the elf to acknowledge her, and Josephine frowned at the display.   
“TJ,” Josephine hissed at her lover’s obnoxious attitude, but Melava waved it away.   
“Not to worry, Lady Ambassador,” Melava lazily waved a hand and smiled, which irked TJ.   
“Trust me, they’re _all_ like this.”  
The mage’s blood was boiling as Melava clapped her hands together and smiled briskly. “Well, it was an honor to meet you, Lady Ambassador. If it is alright with you, I’d like to take Inquisitor Adaar into a private room and get to know her better.”  
“O-Of course,” Josephine stuttered, fearful of what TJ might do. TJ _did_ promise to try this, but the scowl on her face and folded arms spoke otherwise.   
“There are spare rooms on the higher levels that you are more than welcome to use.”  
“It is greatly appreciated, and I’m sure the Inquisitor knows the way?” Melava asked, turning her gaze on TJ. The Qunari scoffed and rolled her eyes. Josephine stared daggers at her lover, then recomposed herself and nodded.   
“She does know the way, and if she misbehaves, I will be the first to know,” Josephine said the last part of her sentence with a warning directed straight at the blonde. Melava’s smile never faltered.   
“Marvelous. Well, let’s head off then. Lead the way, your worship.”  
Despite not knowing where this room was, Maleva left Josephine’s office first, humming.   
  
TJ scoffed and trudged after her, but Josephine grabbed the mage’s tunic. TJ turned to look at her lover, who looked extremely unpleased.   
“Do _not_ make a fool of yourself, or the Inquisition,” Josephine warned TJ in a low, dangerous voice. TJ winced internally at the glare in the Antivan’s hazel eyes.   
“Behave, please. For _me._ You promised you would do this for _me._ Please do not break that promise, Tamsin-Jeanne Kalliope Adaar.”  
TJ sighed, whenever Josephine used her full name (middle name included,) she _had_ to obey. The blonde mage gave a brisk nod, and Josephine pulled her down to give her a very kick, _extremely chaste_ kiss on the cheek. The ambassador then lightly pushed TJ away and returned to her desk, as the Inquisitor continued to follow the healer, and lead her to the room.   
  
_“Andraste, if you’re up there,_ please _give me the balls to deal with this shit,”_ TJ thought as she closed the door to Josephine’s office behind herself, and faced the red-headed Dalish.   
“Follow me."


	6. Chapter 6

“So,” Melava sat down on a chair in one of the guest rooms, cross-legged and in a meditative position.   
Her posture was perfect, and that smile seemed to be painted onto her face, as it had never once withered.   
TJ, on the other hand, had slumped into the other chair, arms folded and one leg crossed over the other. She was avoiding eye contact by staring at a rather tacky painting of the fallow mire’s landscape.   
“Why don’t we start from the beginning? How about you tell me your name, age, and when you first started drinking and getting involved with herbs?”  
TJ scoffed, but answered regardless.   
“Tamsin-Jeanne Adaar, 24, lost track.”  
Melava’s smile grew at the tips. “Tamsin-Jeanne…that’s a rather interesting name for a Qunari.”  
TJ ignored this, so Melava introduced herself. “My name is Melava Vasilif, I am 32 years of age, and I used to consume ghoul’s beard for 6 years.”  
“Ghoul’s beard?” TJ raised an eyebrow.   
  
That was another herb she enjoyed. There were many different ways of getting ghoul’s beard into the system; inhaling it through the mouth, or sniffling it through the nose were the most common ways, but there were more drastic methods. TJ had heard of crystallizing the herb then putting it under a fire to inhale the fumes, and a much more painful method of injecting the herbs directly into the body through the skin. TJ shuddered at the thought – ironic, that _she_ would think that some methods of herb usage would make her feel uncomfortable.   
“Yes, ghoul’s beard. Dalish normally use it to communicate with certain creators,” Melava explained, then moved a lock of red hair out of her face.   
“So, you said that you ‘lost track’ of when you started getting involved with alcohol and herbs?”   
TJ shrugged, shifting her weight to get comfortable, “Probably? My parents let me have sips of ale and stuff when I was little, and my father caught me trying crystal grace when I was younger.”  
“Did your father consume crystal grace and witherstalk?”   
“Just crystal grace, it helped him relax and cope with leaving the Qun.”  
TJ’s answer made Melava hum in thought. The Dalish closed her eyes when she responded, “It seems like you’re very much a daddy’s girl, no?”  
TJ forced out a bark of laughter, then smirked, “If anything, I’m the opposite.”  
“And why is that?” Melava asked. TJ shook her head, thinking about how stupid this was.   
This woman knew _nothing_ about her- she’s just like Cullen…just like Bull…they all want to hurt her…

  
TJ’s smirk faded as a cold rush of fear and hatred swept over her body. “I…I got involved with my mercenary group, dealing with exposing herb addicts…When we took their supplies away, they tried to kill us…Father hated my occupation, hated how I would always have crystal grace afterwards. One night…he took it from me…then hurt me for it…”  
“Did he abuse you without consent?” Melava asked, but TJ folded her arms and looked away. She had let her know enough for now. This woman would just want to hurt her, too. Like everyone else. Melava blinked, sensing the Qunari’s body language, then let out a long sigh.   
“Would you like to talk about something else, Tamsin-Jeanne?”  
_“I don’t want to talk anymore,”_ TJ thought as she shifted her legs again, but gave a single nod. This was tough, as if she had just started to close rifts again- the demons were spewing out constantly, not giving her a chance to seal the real problem. Melava adjusted her hands in her lap, “How many alcoholic drinks do you have a day?”  
“Two pints, more at parties,” TJ answered flatly. She _could_ talk back to Melava if she wished, but Josephine’s glare was imprinted into her memory.   
“How often do you have crystal grace?”  
“Inhale one parchment roll a day.”  
“What about witherstalk?”  
“Before and after a big event, or in celebration…so, once a week?” Tj shrugged her final answer as Melava mentally processed what the mage had told her.

  
“I hear you have a party to attend tomorrow night.”  
“Oh…uh, yeah…” TJ had honestly forgotten about that- there _was_ a gathering to celebrate the spring at some noble’s house on the outskirts of Val Royeux. Thinking about it, she really didn’t want to go, not after the last few days.   
“Do you think you will be drinking ale and such?”  
“It’s Val Royeaux, it’d be wine and champagne and such,” TJ mumbled, moving her hand down to fumble with the pocket in her trousers that had crystal grace inside. Melava followed her hand with her eyes.   
“Do you think you will have crystal grace or witherstalk?”  
“Bull, Cullen and Dorian took away all the witherstalk, so no. Unless there is _some_ noble who might have some…” TJ trailed off, wondering how on earth she would get through tomorrow without witherstalk.   
“It’ll be a challenge,” Melava quipped, as if she had read TJ’s mind. The blonde raised an eyebrow as Melava adjusted her headscarf.   
“How about we make a deal, Tamsin-Jeanne?”  
A snort was the response.   
“Tomorrow, you have a maximum of two drinks- two drinks _only_ – and half a line of witherstalk _if_ you can find it.”  
TJ scuffed her foot on the ground, smirking to herself. _That_ wasn’t going to happen- _her_ average drink count at a party was 5-6. On her days off, it was 2 pints.   
  
“That’s very unlikely, but what’s in it for me?” TJ asked as she felt a craving stir deep within her gut. Melava sighed. Then took off one of her rings and placed it on another finger,  
“I _will_ know if you drink more that two, _and_ if you get witherstalk. Apart from the all important sense of accomplishment, you will also be lengthening your life span.”   
The answer was blunt, and TJ growled at it, but regardless she glanced at the window, and noticed the time from the sun’s position.   
  
The mage kicked herself out of the chair, her head throbbing.   
“I have a training session to get to.”  
“Of course,” Melava got to her feet and clapped her hands together. “So, shall we meet the day after tomorrow?”  
TJ turned around, one hand against her forehead and fingers laced between her horns.   
“How long is Josephine paying you for?”  
“12 meetings.”  
 _“Andraste’s thighs,”_ TJ thought to herself with an audible groan. Melava rocked back and forth on her feet.   
“I have plenty of time to help you.”

TJ turned her back and walked towards the door. She let out a huff and responded coldly,   
“I don’t _need_ help.”   
  
As Adaar opened the door, Melava chirped back, not bothered in the slightest by TJ’s obnoxious behaviour.  
  
“That’s what _everyone_ says.”


	7. Chapter 7

The cool Orlesian air hit TJ in the face as she walked up to the gates of the grand noble’s house. TJ was wearing formal attire, similar to what she wore at the Winter Palace, but in black with gold trimmings instead of red. Her hair was tied back and her face was painted with makeup. Next to her was Josephine, in a blue dress, and behind them walked Cullen, Leliana, Dorian, Cassandra and Cole.

Everyone was quiet as they walked. Cassandra, Dorian and Leliana did not take their eyes off TJ.

“She doesn’t smell, at least,” Cassandra muttered to Leliana, who shrugged.   
“She always promises to never return until there is no smell left.”   
TJ could hear the warrior and spymaster clearly, but chose to ignore them.   
“Just a reminder to all, The Mariquis du Frelongue is not fond of bad habbits,” Josephine called over her should as TJ stuff a hand into her trouser pocket.   
“Dorian, please watch your tongue and monitor your wine consumption.”  
“As you wish, dearest Josephine,” Dorian smiled, twirling his moustache as he gazed up at the night sky.  
“Cole, please refrain from anything drastic. You can help us by being polite,”  
“Y-Yes, Josephine.”  
“And you,” Josephine turned to look up at her lover, who had a permanent scowl on her face.   
“I am _begging_ you to fulfill mistress Vasilif’s wishes of only having two drinks. And absolutely _no_ witherstalk or any other herbs you might come across.”  
“Do you really think this Orlesian noble with a stick up his rear end would have herbs for those to indulge in?” Cassandra sighed as she crossed her arms. Josephine looked back at her and frowned. “Let us hope that everyone remains clean and proper tonight.”  
“We won’t make a fool of the Inquisition, Josephine. Relax,” Cullen stated with a slight moan. He would have gotten used to Josephine’s constant worry about how the Inquisition would behave at events like these. Yet, the added pressure of The Inquisitor’s issues weighed down on the Ambassador.  
TJ had blocked out the conversations, and looked around as Josephine greeted the guard and had their party checked off his clipboard. With a flourish of his quill, the man nodded and stepped aside.

 

The garden was lit with candles and tiny enchanted flames that hung above the guests. Josephine led the Inquisition over to the Marqui and introduced them. Adaar put on a fake smile and bowed politely as she was acquainted, yet her insides felt dark and empty. There was no life, just anger and anxiety about everything that had happened before this event. Once the greetings were done, Leliana dragged Cassandra away to find people to mingle with, and Dorian took Cole to hunt down a canapé. Cullen continued to talk with the Marquis as Josephine led Adaar to a sheltered area.   
“Please, no more than two drinks,” Josephine pleaded as TJ looked off at the human nobles. The mage shrugged, moving a strand of blond hair behind her ear. Josephine tightened her grip on TJ’s large hand, that was covered by a glove.   
“We will not stay for too long,”  
“I _really_ hope that’s the case,” TJ muttered as Josephine bit her lip. The human woman gave the Qunari’s hand one final squeeze, then walked off to mingle.  
  
TJ watched her go with that familiar pang of guilt in her stomach. She leaned against the wall with her hands folded, but there was a craving for that ever-longing herb to just perk her up…  
Shaking her head, TJ scuffed her boot on the ground as a servant approached her with a tray of champagne balanced on their right hand. The mask hid the confusion in their eyes as they extended the tray to offer The Inquisitor a drink.   
  
TJ felt as is time had stopped. The bubbles forming at the cup were tempting, as was that crisp smell. The qunari extended her hand and took one, thanking the servant with a nod and a plastic smile. Once they turned away,   
TJ took a sip. Her insides felt as if she had brought rained to a drought. It felt _so_ good to drink something.   
Yet before she knew it, the cup was empty.  
_“Fuck!”_ TJ swore under her breath as she gazed at the empty glass. There was tingling inside her from the alcohol, but a chill from the realization that it wasn’t even midnight and she just drank one of her two allowed drinks.  
  
… _Allowed?  
_  
_“Who does this woman think she is? Giving_ me _a limit on drinks. She’s not even here!”_ TJ thought to herself as she twirling the glass between her fingers.   
_“I_ will _know if you drink more than two,”_ the voice of Melava echoed in her head, and TJ let out a tiny growl.   
  
“Oh…is everything alright, Inquisitor Adaar?”  
An Orlesian voice broke her internal struggle as Adaar snapped her head up with that every present fake smile. Two noblewomen stood before her in matching gowns, but one was in blue while the other in green.  
“Ah, forgive me. Everything is fine just, just a slight head rush, is all,” TJ’s voice automatically became smooth and charming as she winked at the two women. They giggled as TJ shoved the thoughts into the back of her mind.   
“How have you two _exquisite_ ladies found the party?”  
“Frelongue has certainly outdone himself, these canapés are to die for!” The woman in blue held up an oyster with some sort of stuffing inside to show the blonde mage.   
“The night is lovely, such a perfect temperature,” the woman in pink added on. TJ nodded in agreement as her stomach rumbled. The pink dress noble took a sip from her cup of champagne as the blue dress noble continued to talk.   
“Where are my manners? I am Helena, and this is my sister Annabelle.”  
TJ bowed and extended her hand for the blue dress noble, her unnatural smile relaxing, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss Helena,” she greeted, kissing the top of Helena ’s hand with a wink. Helena and her sister giggled as TJ did the same with Annabelle.   
“I take it you two are currently studying at the university of Orlais?” TJ asked, and Annabelle started to answer.   
“Why, yes we are! However did you know? I am a student of fashion design and Helena is interested in merchant work…”  
  
TJ stopped listening as another servant came up to them to offer a small glass of wine. The mage felt her brow break out in a sweat as she stared at the glass longingly, her insides were practically screaming for the wine to trickle down her throat and into her stomach…  
  
But Adaar surprised herself by automatically waving her hand at the servant, to signal that she did _not_ want a glass. The sisters took one glass each, and Helena  eyed TJ through her mask.  
“Did you not want wine, Inquisitor?” she asked as Annabelle was cut off from her ramblings about education. TJ felt her breath become shallow as she stuffed a hand into her pocket.   
“That is not the case, I just don’t like that type of wine…Too rich for my liking,” she lied, trying to drown out the sensations in her body that were screaming for another drink. Annabelle looked at her sister and rolled her eyes.   
“Helena , that is not a polite thing to a say! Everyone has different tastes.”  
“It is not that, Anna,” Helena began as a grin formed on her face, TJ’s eyebrows flew upwards at the response that came next:   
  
“It is that The Inquisitor is famous for accepting any drink that is offered to her, not bothering about anything else."

TJ’s heart stopped for a split second. It felt as if the world had stopped spinning. The mage’s breath turned shallow as her perspiration continued on her forehead and temples. There was an anger that boiled within her system as Adaar looked at the two sisters, who were gazing back at her. TJ felt the grip on the champagne cup tightened, and soon enough, the glass cup shattered in her fingertips. There were a few exclamations, and the sisters stood back as the glass hit the floor in slow motion. TJ felt a storm start within her belly- she wanted to lash out at the girl, yell at her about how she _would_ drink that wine if she could, and that she didn’t know what she was talking about…But the conscious inside her head ordered her to back off.  
  
“Excuse me,” TJ bowed quickly, then stormed off to find somewhere quiet.


	8. Chapter 8

Adaar’s vision when blurry as she passed nobles and servants like. She climbed up the stairs to the higher level, leaving the garden behind at the bottom. Her eyes were burning as she kept her head down, and then found a small guest room that was unoccupied. She stepped inside, slamming the door behind her.

  
TJ took the pillow off the bed, threw her face into it, and screamed. The pillow muffled the sound, and she was careful to stomp her feet so that it didn’t shake throughout the house.

  
With a gasp of air, the mage lifted her head up off the pillow, ignoring the makeup that was left on it- a perfect printed image of Adaar. TJ threw the pillow aside, then created a ball of static with her two hands. She let it grow and grow, channeling all of her anger and anxiety into her personal storm. The lightning reflected off her face and into the mirror- the shadows darkened her features, and Tamsin-Jeanne looked _truly_ evil. A furious soul unleashed upon the room.

With a final yell of frustration, TJ vanquished the ball and threw her head into her hands. She let her eyes burn as silent tears trickled down her face. The cravings were screaming inside of her along with all the hate. That young girl _knew_ she drank a lot, and it made her angry for some reason…Why?   
Why was this aggravating her? Normally she didn’t care what people thought of her. A larger than life blonde qunari mage, a storm master, who loves drinking and enjoys herbs should _not_ let some prissy human girl get her down.

  
She closed her eyes, blocking out all of her surroundings and let the darkness embrace her. Adaar ignored the white noise and the touch of her hands against her face, but there was a scent that she could not get out of her nose…  
Burnt grass, a meadow on fire…  
Witherstalk.  
  
TJ’s head snapped up as her nostrils swelled at the smell. There was witherstalk in here, and she had to find it. The mage followed her nose to the desk in the corner of the room, and noticed the smell coming from the draw. With a shaking hand, Adaar opened it, and let out a shaky gasp as the sight of witherstalk wrapped in cloth looked up at her, tempting her.   
  
The blonde started to sweat again as she took in the site. With a shaking hand, she flicked her wrist to magically lock the door so nobody would disturb her. With her other hand, Adaar reached for the cloth bag that held the herbs and placed it on the desk. Her inside’s were practically screaming for her to get the herbs inside.  
  
TJ’s hands were shaking as the unraveled the cloth and her eyes feasted upon the finely cut witherstalk. She looked around the room, desperate for something to roll up and insert into her nose. The emerald eyes crossed a notepad on the side of the desk, so Adaar ripped a page out and rolled it up, fingers fumbling from anxiety.   
  
She ever so carefully lined up a few rows of witherstalk, her mouth parted as she took in that ever-loving smell. Yet as she looked down at the three even lines of the rare herbs, her heart started thumping, and it felt like it had ejected up into her throat. The thumping was in her ears as her hands struggled to get the makeshift nozzle into her nose.  
  
Adaar sat down on the chair, pushing it back so that she was leaning on the edge of the desk, and tried to steady her hands as the nozzle was lined up to the first row of witherstalk.  
  
With one long, trembling sniff, the entire line went up her nose…

 -

TJ pushed the door open, wiping her hand on the back of her sleeve to remove any leftover herbs that might still be on her face. The high was ever present, and she felt alive again. The herbs were mulling in her stomach contently as the blonde walked passed some servants and out onto the balcony. She did her best to stay calm, ignoring the joyful jitters inside her. The sniffling seemed to annoy a noblemen and his companion, so they moved away as TJ gazed up at the stars. Her eyes felt dry as she clenched her hands around the sleek stone railing.   
  
The night sky was scattered with stars, and the moon illuminated the mountains. The blonde’s eyes twitched at the brightness as her dry throat took in the cool air.   
  
“Inquisitor,” a voice greeted her from behind, and TJ whirled around to see Cassandra leaning against the wall with her arms folded. TJ smiled, twirling a loose strand of hair as the human seeker moved towards her.  
  
“Cassandra, how has your evening been?” TJ greeted her with a slight bow. Cassandra let out a gruff sigh as she leaned against the balcony next to TJ.   
  
“All this noble talk and game playing makes me ill, and not to mention this suit is so uncomfortable…”  
  
Adaar stopped listening to Cassandra, and her whole body started to sweat as that familiar voice in her head started to speak.   
  
_“She wants you kill you, to see you get hurt…”  
_  
“Inquisitor?” Cassandra stared at the mage, who’s eyes had glazed over. The seeker raised an eyebrow as Adaar cleared her throat.   
  
“Yes, Cassandra?”  
  
“I was asking you if the Marquis has spoken to you yet,” Cassandra’s voice was coloured with suspicion as TJ stumbled for an answer.  
  
“Ah, w-well I have been mingling with some other guests. Haven’t seen the Marquis since the beginning…”  
  
Cassandra’s gaze lingered on TJ’s nose, which was more swollen than the beginning of the night.   
  
“…You found herbs, didn’t you?”  
  
TJ gulped and clenched the railing so hard she thought it might snap in half. The mage let out a very dry, very fake chuckle as she averted her eyes from Cassandra.  
  
“Don’t you _dare_ play coy with me, Adaar,” Cassandra growled as the blonde started to sweat even more.  
  
_“She wants you dead.”_

“Why in the name of The Maker-”  
  
TJ cut off Cassandra’s scold with her a whine as she stepped back, seeing a monster wanting to end her life. Cassandra’s face turned white with fury as she let anger contort her features, “How much did you have.”  
“…”  
“ _Adaar._ How much did you have,” Cassandra repeated through gritted teeth. TJ’s heartbeat quickened, turning to run away from the woman, but then she saw someone else.  
  
Josephine, standing before her with her arms crossed and glaring at the blonde Qunari. She was tapping her foot against the ground, looking completely livid. Even Cassandra’s breath hitched at the site of the furious ambassador.   
  
“We are leaving,” Josephine’s voice was icy, and it stabbed at TJ’s rapid heart. Josephine grabbed the mage by the hand and briskly moved away from the balcony.  
  
“All of us, Josephine?” Cassandra called from behind, but Josephine did not respond.   
  
She stormed down the stairs and into the garden again, ignoring the other guests.


	9. Chapter 9

“ _Three_ lines?” The elf twisted a lock of red hair as the blonde Qunari kept her face buried within her hands. The morning after the party, Melava came to talk to TJ to see if she had done as she was told.

TJ only had one drink, and that was a _massive_ achievement, as Melava had praised her for it. Yet, the mentioning of witherstalk had the elf’s face fall into sorrow.  
  
“Yes…three lines of witherstalk,” TJ mumbled, looking down at the stone surface beneath them. She had too many emotions to talk about with the woman before her- too many dark thoughts. The Qunari’s nose was twitching as her head pounded.  
  
“May I ask where you found the witherstalk? I mean, it was a noble gathering, after all,” Melava questioned, reaching to the side table to grab her goblet.  
  
“In a room…there was an entire bag of it,” TJ mumbled, tightening her arms and looking away. Melava sighed, “There must e a reason as to why you had _three_ lines instead of my recommendation of _half_ a line.”  
  
“There is,” TJ sighed, scuffing her boots along the floor.   
  
“At the party, these two girls came up to me. We talked, and when I said no to a second drink, one of them…”  
  
She stopped, unable to bring herself to continue. The words still rung in her head as her whole body tensed up. Adaar’s heartbeat quickened its tempo as Melava let out a little ‘ah’ of realization. “You were embarrassed? Or attracted to these girls?”  
  
“Of _course_ I’m not attracted to them!” Adaar hissed, dry eyes narrowing in disgust.   
  
“Forgive me,” Melava apologized, placing her hands in her lap. “Then I take it they embarrassed you?”  
  
“Not exactly,” the mage began as her stomach flipped. “When I said ‘no’ to another drink, one of them asked me why…She then brought up the fact that I am known for never saying ‘no’ to any drink…” TJ’s face went into her hands again, her eyes brimming with silent tears.  
  
Melava sighed, “A wound to the ego is never pleasant. To be called out like that, by a young girl, no less, is not fun, I can imagine.”   
  
“It’s the worst…worse than dealing with red templars,” TJ’s breath hitched as the sentence replayed itself in her mind constantly. Melava comforted her in Elvish, tapping a finger against the goblet in her hand.   
  
“Have you had a similar experience with more alcohol or herbs in your system?” she asked, and Adaar shook her head.  
  
“Nothing that has stuck like this before…”  
  
“That is due to the _lack_ of alcohol and herbs in your system. You can remember nearly the entire night, can’t you?”  
  
The blonde nodded, looking up at the elf. “That…that’s true.”  
  
Melava smiled as the mage lightly scowled, “Don’t tell anyone about this.”  
  
“Of course not, Tamsin-Jeanne,” Melava nodded. The Qunari stood up and scratched the back of her neck, and reached into her pocket to take out crystal grace.  
  
“Thanks, Melava,” TJ sighed, turning to the door.

Melava called out behind her.  
“Wait, Tamsin-Jeanne. There is something I want to show you.”  
  
With a sigh, the blonde whirled around to look observe Melava. She was holding the goblet in her left hand; Adaar noticed the liquid brimming at the top.   
  
“Drinking in the day?” She asked, but Melava shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was thick as the substance travelled down her throat.  
  
“It’s not alcohol, and you actually beat me to it.”  
  
“Beat you to what?”    
  
“A suggestion,” Melava smiled, pointing to the goblet with a smile. TJ raised an eyebrow and the elf started to explain, “I cannot tell you how proud I am of you with consuming only one drink; it’s a massive step. But,” Melava’s brows furrowed as TJ bit her lip in frustration.   
  
“The herb usage needs work, that’s where _this_ comes in.”  
  
Melava held up the goblet and showed the yellow liquid inside.   
  
“As I said the last time we met, I was addicted to ghoul’s beard for six long years. This,” she tipped the goblet to the side slowly before continuing.   
  
“Is the replacement for ghoul’s beard. Every time I get a craving for a line of ghoul’s beard, I take a sip,” Melava demonstrated by drinking, and TJ blinked.   
  
“So…you think I should swap out crystal grace _and_ witherstalk for a drink?”  
  
“It doesn’t have to be a drink,” Melava answered quickly, putting down the drink and looking at the blonde.   
  
“It could be food, or even an action.”  
  
TJ shrugged, shifting her feet.   
  
“…Wouldn’t I gain weight if I swapped them for food?”  
  
“As I said, it could be an action, too: running, training, sleeping, reading…the list is endless,” Melava responded. TJ rubbed the back of her head and closed her eyes.  
  
“Can I give this some thought and let you know tomorrow?” she asked, and the elf nodded.  
  
“Thanks,” TJ got up from her chair and left the room.


	10. Chapter 10

As the blonde closed the door behind her, a familiar human woman was standing outside of the room. Josephine was back in her regular clothing, and her arms were folded.   
  
The look on her face made TJ gulp in fear, sweat beading on her forehead. Josephine was still livid from the previous night.   
  
“You know I can’t tell you what we talked about, it’s confidential,” TJ sighed, leaning against the wall as her hair fell over her shoulder. Josephine blinked.   
  
“I am aware of that, Inquisitor. However, Melava asked _me_ to talk to her. If you will excuse me,” Josephine put her hand on the door, averting TJ’s sorrowful gaze.  
  
“I…I am really sorry, Josie,” TJ whispered, and then leaned in to place a soft kiss against the Antivan’s temples. Josephine gritted her teeth, then entered the room.  
  
TJ’s breath hitched as she pushed herself off the wall and headed towards Skyhold’s stables. Perhaps she could have a chat to one of the harts.  
  


* * *

 

 “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Ambassador Montilyet,” Melava stood up and bowed with a smile. Josephine forced a faux smile onto her face and curtseyed back.   
  
“It is not a problem. Where The Inquisitor is involved, I will be,” she responded, sitting down in the chair with her hands in her lap and legs crossed in the back.   
  
Melava also sat down, taking a swig of the gold liquid. 

“So, The Inquisitor tells me she only had one alcoholic drink, but three lines of Witherstalk. That’s correct?”  
  
“It is,” Josephine sighed curtly, she was still fuming. Melava looked the woman up and down; her clothes were prim and proper, her hair tied back in an elegant low bun. There wasn’t a single flaw in her skin, and her polite posture must come from years of dealing with nobility.   
  
“I can imagine Tamsin-Jeanne’s actions will have people view the Inquisition in a new light,” Melava said softly, curling her finger around a lock of her red hair. Josephine sighed and folded her arms, a frown coming across her face.   
  
“It is not that I am worried about! …maybe a little, as the Inquisition was built up from the ground, and to have that image on the top will make others forget what it has accomplished. However,” she unfolded her arms and looked down at the ground, eyes shimmering with tears.

“I care for TJ, I love TJ. She is ruining herself with all this behaviour…I do not want to lose her, there have been enough times where she has stared death in the face.”   
  
Josephine started to fumble with her hands, not looking up at Melava.   
  
“This Witherstalk usage only became more apparent once the red templars had been cleared out…”  
  
“I take it you know what Witherstalk can do to people?”  
  
“Y-Yes, I do…” Josephine’s throat tightened at the thought.   
  
“My…my uncle had a severe witherstalk addiction. One night, he thought he was being chased by bandits, and ended his life on the docks.”  
  
Tears started to fall down the woman’s face, and Melava let out a sigh.   
  
“My condolences.”  
  
“That…that can’t happen to The Inquisitor. It just cannot happen, I refuse,” Josephine sobbed. The memories of losing Romano were too much. Melava closed her eyes and let her lip curl.  
  
“When facing an addiction, the most significant variable someone needs is patience. It will not happen overnight, and witherstalk is not easy to eliminate. But, it has been done, and I promise you Inquisitor Adaar _will_ conquer this addiction.”  
  
Josephine took out her white handkerchief and dabbed her eyes as Melava continued to talk.  
  
“However, your devotion to the Inquisitor is another important asset. You need to continue to support her, and monitor her. It will all be worth it in the end, and there is nothing, _nothing_ more rewarding than supporting her throughout this time.”  
  
Josephine hiccupped as the tears stopped, and she looked at the elf.  
  
“What do you recommend the next action to be?”  
  
“There are two methods,” Melava explained, raising a delicate finger from her left hand.  
  
“The first is a substitute. I have suggested this to Adaar as well. Change the desire for witherstalk or alcohol with something else. Be it food, water, an activity, just something to swap cravings.”  
  
"And the second?" Josephine questioned, and Melava raised her first finger on her right hand.  
  
"My theory is that Adaar, like many others addicted to substances, have a purpose for their addiction. Crystal grace relaxes her, and Witherstalk enhances her desire to continue. To cut it off completely right now will make the process worse. So the other option is to get her to relax."  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Josephine raised her eyebrows.  
  
"TJ needs to relax. She needs to relieve herself of all of the stress being Inquisitor provides. My recommendation is that the expeditions are limited, and more time is to be spent on recreation."  
  
"You see, Melava, with all due respect, but Tamsin-Jeanne finds training to be her recreation."  
  
"Then we allow more time for her to train. She's currently studying Knight Enchantment, yes? Enhance that." 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to anyone who is currently battling addiction. I know what it's like to be addicted to something that can harm you (I've been sober for 4 months.)


End file.
